I have no idea how much time passes, but it must be a good chunk. It’s only when my legs feel stiff do I shake myself out of my stupor and move slightly. The noise is loud enough for Eden to hear because her hands drop from her face, and she’s staring back at me. It’s almost like, in her delirium of seeing me, she forgot I was even standing here.
Everything is silent as we regard each other. Even the birds seem to understand the gravity of what’s happening.
“Hi,” I manage to rasp out.
“Bloody typical, isn’t it?” she says.
I have to bite my lip as she gives me her signature grin. There have been many times over the last two years I genuinely thought I’d never see it directed my way again.
“What is?” I ask.
Eden shakes her head as she clambers to her feet. I love how she towers over me. Her body looks amazing, and her hair makes me want to drool. Instead of the modern mullet, which Eden sported for a few years, she’s now got a full undercut with the main section of her hair up in a topknot.
Another addition to her look is the small tattoo just below her left ear. I can’t quite make out the design, and I don’t dare to get any closer.
“This,” she answers, waving her hand around. “Literally running into you the day after I find out you’re back.”
She’s not wrong. Even I didn’t think we’d bump into each other, literally, this early on.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, I swear.” A large part of me is panicking because I don’t want her to think I’m acting nefarious in any way. Eden cocks her eyebrow.
“By the deer-in-headlights reaction you gave me, I kinda figured.“
Chewing my lip, I give her a small nod and drop my eyes to the ground, because I simply cannot keep looking at her without doing something stupid.
“Sloane?” she says after a few more beats of awkward silence.
I have to take a few breaths to keep my emotions in check, otherwise I’m going to be a begging, crying wreck. But it’s not about what I want right now. Eden needs to lead the way. Locking my jaw, I lift my head and look her square in the eye. Fuck, the sight of her physically hurts my chest.
“Hi, Eden,” I repeat. “You look really good.”
Eden assesses me from head to toe, and brother, do I feel it viscerally!
“You too, Bishop.”
My nose flares involuntarily at the use of my surname. It’s far too playful for what’s happening, isn’t it? Why isn’t she storming away, or at least giving me the silent treatment?
“Please don’t do that, Eden,” I grumble. “Don’t let me off the hook by being sweet.”
Her hand goes to the back of her neck, where she rubs it gently in the usual way when she’s nervous. “I’m not letting you off the hook, Sloane.”
“Good,” I reply and then cringe, because this is when I expect her real feelings to show. This is when I wait for the fallout of my actions.
“But I’m not going to blame you either,” she continues.
Shaking my head, I look over my shoulder and back out to the vista, just to give myself a little time to formulate a response.
“If there is anyone in this world who has the right to place blame, it’s you, Eden,” I say as I turn back.
She shrugs at me and drops her hands to her hips. “Maybe, but that’s not what I want to do.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask without thinking. I know what I’d like to do, and it’s very inappropriate.
“Honestly,” she begins, and I nod. “I want to hug you. I want to tell you how proud I am that you’ve worked through your shit, to get back here.”
Taking a step back, I shake my head again. “Eden, come on! I broke us and hurt you in the worst possible way!”
“You did,” she says matter-of-factly, “and I won’t forget how that felt. But Sloane, I was so worried about you. I’m just relieved to see you standing here in one piece.”
